


the five times you asked spencer to stay, and the one time he asked you

by jude__the__dude



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Food, Gun Violence, Hospitals, Light Angst, Minor Character Death, and dumplings, blueberry bagel with cream cheese, five times trope, fried rice, specifically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26877802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jude__the__dude/pseuds/jude__the__dude
Summary: you always ask spencer if he would stay with you. key word: would. hypothetical. he never thought he would need to be the one asking you.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 90





	the five times you asked spencer to stay, and the one time he asked you

Spencer watched you out of the corner of his eye as he packed up his messenger bag. He usually didn’t mind completing paperwork at the office, but not after jet rides. You, however, didn't seem like you were leaving any time soon.

“l/n?”

“Yeah?” You replied, looking up from the small pile of paperwork on your desk. “Oh, are you heading out?” You asked once you saw Spencer with his messenger bag on his shoulder and his coat hanging off his forearm.

“Yeah, I haven't slept in four days. Neither have you.” Spencer pointed out. “I know it’s your first case and all, but don’t push yourself. You did really well today.”

“Really?” You perked up.

“Yeah, really.” He nodded, smiling at your endearing excitement towards his words of praise. “See you tomorrow, l/n.”

“See you tomorrow.” You repeated after him as he began to head towards the glass doors. “Dr. Reid?”

Spencer turned again, confused eyes landing on you. “Yes?”

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” You asked. 

“Is that hypothetical?”

You shrugged and nodded. “I suppose.”

He paused and you watched his eyes dart back and forth in thought. “Yeah, I would.”

You hummed with a smile and returned to your paperwork. You could feel Spencer’s eyes on you, but you didn’t meet them. He was waiting for you to ask him to stay, but you were being honest. It was hypothetical. You wanted to know if he would and he said yes.

Spencer came to that conclusion a few moments later. So he left the bullpen. You wanted to know if he would stay, but why?

:: :: ::

You were having lunch at the brunch place that was only a ten minute walk from the office when you felt a pair of eyes on you. You looked up discreetly and scanned the crowd. It took you awhile, but you managed to find Spencer waiting in the pick up area.

You smiled and waved and he did the same. You saw him take his sandwich and place it in a brown paper bag. He wasn’t staying.

He approached you and leaned against the chair opposite you. He didn’t want to sit.

“Hello Dr. Reid.” You greeted him. “To what do I owe the pleasure.”

“You know you can call me Spencer, right?” 

“Mm, I’ll think about it.” You laughed teasingly. “What did you get?” You asked, nodding towards his brown paper bag.

“The uh blueberry bagel with cream cheese.” He replied, lifting the bag in his hand slightly. “And a ham and cheese for Morgan.”

“Good choice, I had the bagel yesterday.”

“You come here a lot?” He asked.

“Started coming here ever since I started the job.” You explained. “You don’t need to stay for much longer, I know Morgan is waiting for you.”

“You can come join us for lunch, if you’d like?” Spencer asked, surprised at himself. Where did that confidence come from?

“I think I’m okay here, thank you for the offer though.” You smiled. It’s not like you didn’t want to form a bond with the team, but you knew yourself. Too many adjustments came with this job. New city, new apartment, new neighbors, new work schedule, new grocery store, new everything. You needed time. “Maybe next time.”

“Next time.” Spencer nodded dejectedly with a tight lipped smile. Wait, dejectedly? “I’ll see you at the office?” He asked. 

“That you will.” You smiled. But you called out to him before he got too close to the door. Thankfully your table was the closest to the exit, so your voice didn’t reach all the patrons in the busy cafe. “Dr. Reid!” He turned and looked at you expectantly. “If I asked you to stay, would you?”

“You mean: would I ditch Morgan?” Spencer replied with a chuckle and you nodded, laughing along with him. “Yeah.” He nodded before adding, “If you asked, of course.”

“Of course.” You replied. “Thank you though. For hypothetically ditching your best friend.”

“Anytime.”

“See you at the office, Dr. Reid.”

And with that, he left with a question that remained unanswered.

:: :: :: 

Cases including children were always hard, but your first one always sticks with you. Especially when a child is lost during the case. 

Allison Bryar was eleven years old. You had spoken to her. You promised her that she would be okay. You didn’t consider the fact that she might live in the same house as the Unsub.

Jimmy Fuller was her older foster brother. He fit the profile, you knew that, but so did about thirteen other boys. Troubled youth bouncing from foster house to foster house, most likely separated from an older sibling. He targeted younger siblings who were separated from their own older siblings.

Five children between the ages of seven and thirteen fit Jimmy’s victimology in all the houses he stayed in. Allison was not more or less special than the other four victims, but she grabbed your hand before you left her house. She pulled you down to her level and made you promise. She made you promise that she would be okay and-

A knock interrupted the spiral of thoughts you were drowning in. You got up off the stiff hotel mattress and walked to the door to look through the peephole. Spencer smiled solemnly and waved when he heard the scrape of the metal flap, indicating that you had slid it away to see who was at the door.

You sighed and stepped back, unlocking the door and opening it wide for Spencer to enter.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He walked in and placed what appeared to be a bag of takeout on the nightstand placed between the two twin beds. “I got you some food.”

“I can see that.” You noted with an amused tilt to your voice, but Spencer could still see the dread hiding behind it. “Why?”

“You haven’t eaten since-” You knew when you had stopped eating. Seeing Allison’s body wasn’t something you could forget. Spencer knew not to say anything when he saw you wince at the memory. “You need to eat, l/n. Hope you like Chinese.”

Spencer began to unpack the takeout boxes of food, hoping you’d come join him. You sighed in defeat and sat in the bed across from Spencer. “Is there any fried rice?”

“Yeah, it should be the box to your left.” He nodded and pointed to the box in question, handing you a spoon.

“You know what I don’t understand?” You asked and he replied with a hum as his mouth was already full of dumpling. “Chopsticks.”

He nodded enthusiastically as he swallowed his mouthful. “Me too! How do they even work?”

“I have absolutely no clue.”

The two of you ate in silence after that, Spencer leaving the conversation up to you. He remembers his first case involving children. As does every agent. But that doesn’t invalidate the feelings that come with such difficult cases.

You placed the empty takeout boxes in the bag they came in and the leftovers in the mini fridge. You quietly took the bag and placed it out by the door so it wouldn’t stink up the small hotel room. Walking into the bathroom, you plucked both toothbrushes out of the cup and stuck your head out into the bedroom.

“I’ve got an extra toothbrush in here if you’d like to use it.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Spencer walked into the bathroom with you. He took the toothbrush off the counter and took it out of its packaging. He watched you wet your toothbrush, unscrew the toothpaste, and spread it on the bristles on your toothbrush, and wet it again. You spread some toothpaste on Spencer’s toothbrush that he outstretched towards you. 

Once you stuck your toothbrush in your mouth, you looked at Spencer with wide eyes as he brought the toothbrush to his mouth. You pulled it out of your mouth and squinted at Spencer.

“If you don’t wet your toothbrush again, I’m kicking you out.”

“What?!”

“It’s the rules. Wet, toothpaste, wet. Whoever does it any other way is a psychopath.” You shrugged, watching him wet his toothbrush as he scoffed.

“That’s not what determines a psychopath l/n, and you should know that. You deal with them every day.” The conversation paused for two minutes as you both looked at each other in the mirror while you brushed your teeth. A few funny faces and some gargling later, you were both back on the beds.

“Who’s to say that all the serial killers we’ve seen don’t wet their toothbrush once, huh? There hasn’t been a study to disprove my theory.”

“Nor has there been a study to prove it.” He retaliated. “Maybe we should start asking them, though.”

You chuckled and shook your head. 

You sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “How do you do it, Spencer?”

Spencer. You had never called him that before.

“Do what?” He was pretty sure he knew what you were asking, but he wanted you to say it.

“Deal with the deaths that we could have prevented.”

He didn’t reply immediately so he could articulate his thoughts. “I’m not one to believe in fate. Yet when it comes to the innocent people we lose during these cases, I know there’s nothing I could have done. And there’s nothing I can do after the fact to bring them back. I cannot change the past, but I can try to change the future. And I do that by waking up every day and going to work.”

Spencer waited for you to reply, but you said nothing. You just kept staring at the ceiling as the tears flowed past your temples and across the ridges of your ears. “l/n, you’re a valuable part of our team. We work better, faster, and more efficiently with you. But if you have to leave, I can’t stop you.”

“I’m not leaving, don’t worry.” You sniffled and laughed through your tears. “You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“Good.” He chuckled, eyes landing on the clock that flashed ‘1:17 AM’. “It’s getting late.”

“If I asked you to stay, would you?”

Spencer was hoping you’d ask him that. “Yes.” He replied instantaneously. Now if only-

“Will you stay?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I’ll stay, l/n.”

“And Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“Call me y/n.”

:: :: :: 

Spencer waited patiently after knocking on your front door. When you didn’t come to work today, he was worried. Garcia walked into the bullpen exactly seven minutes after her arrival at the office and informed everyone that you had called in sick.

“So who’s getting the soup?” Garcia asked, like she always did when someone called in sick and they were really sick.

“I will.” Spencer offered, surprisingly fast. But no one questioned it. “Send me the address, will you Garcia?”

When you opened the door with a bright red nose and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, Spencer’s fear that he read the address wrong finally left him. 

“Spencer? What are you doing here?” You asked, but you still stepped back and opened the door wider so he could follow you in.

“I heard you were sick, so I got you some stuff.” He replied, shuffling out of his shoes and aligning them with the few pairs you had next to the door. “Soup, fresh orange juice, Nyquil, tissue. I’m guessing you’ve got water.”

“Yes, I have water.” You rolled your eyes and laughed. “Thank you Spencer, but you really didn’t have to.”

“It’s what friends are for.” He replied with the softest smile. “Have you had anything to eat?”

“Lots and lots of saltines and those instant soup things.” You answer, leading him towards your couch. It was clear that you hadn’t moved much from the space, what with the pillows and the small trash can almost overflowing with used tissues.

Pulling out one of the orange juices from the foldable drink holder, Spencer handed it to you. “Drink this while I go heat up the soup, alright?”

You nodded and accepted the large cup of orange juice with both hands. You sipped out of the straw slowly, enjoying the sounds of Spencer in your kitchen. You smiled when you heard him start talking to himself.

“Pot?” He asked before opening a cupboard. “No. Maybe here? No. Or here? Oh bowls! Yeah, I need one of those. Pot?”

“The pots are in the cupboard under the stove!” You called out to him.

“Got it, thank you!”

And ten minutes later, Spencer came back into the living room with a bowl of warm soup.

“Thank you again, I really owe you one.” You sighed as the steam from the soup opened up your airways. 

“No way!” He scoffed, taking the other cup of orange juice and plopping down on the love seat by the couch. “Like I said, it’s what friends are for.”

“Well, thank you for being my friend.”

Spencer’s eyes softened at your words. “It’s my pleasure.”

You took in a breath as if you were going to say something before you stopped yourself. “Spencer?” It was clear that his name wasn’t what you wanted to say.

“Yes?” Spencer smiled because he knew why you were hesitant to speak.

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” 

There it is. This would be the fourth time you’ve asked him if he would stay, why were you still nervous? You weren’t even asking him to stay, you were only asking if he would. Except for that last time. Why still insist on asking the same question?

“You know that you can just outright ask me, right y/n?” He smiled teasingly at you.

You rolled your eyes as you felt the heat climb up to your ears. “Just answer the question.” You whined.

“I’ll stay, y/n.” Spencer answered, his smile still wide on his face. “I’ll stay.”

:: :: ::

It all happened so fast. They didn’t even know the Unsub had a gun. All of his victims were stabbed. He hadn’t even showed signs of a possible suicide by cop.

Spencer was hit in the chest, but he was wearing a bulletproof vest. You, however, weren’t. You took it off, along with your gun, to approach the Unsub. Spencer had done exactly that multiple times before in his career, but his heart plummeted when he saw you do it.

“Jensen, put the gun down. If you surrender, I’ll make sure the judge will go easy on you. You don’t have to hurt anymore people.” You spoke calmly even though the situation was anything but calm.

“You can’t promise that!” Jensen yelled back at you, the woman he was holding against him trembling in fear. “Step back! Step back or I’ll shoot her!”

“I’m not a threat, Jensen. I put my gun away, you saw me. Now hand over your gun and let the woman go.”

Suddenly, a shot fired.

Spencer watched in slow motion as you fell backwards, the bullet lodging itself in your shoulder. He heard someone screaming out your name before he realized it was himself. Dropping his gun, Spencer rushed towards you, not caring that the Unsub could just as easily shoot him.

He didn’t see Derek tackling Jensen from behind as he dropped to the floor next to you.

“Spencer?”

“Hey, it’s me.” Spencer replied, his tears falling onto your face. “You’re gonna be fine, y/n. Just stay awake.”

“If I asked you to stay, would you?” You asked weakly.

“You know I would. I always stay when you ask. Always.” Spencer’s voice wobbled with emotion. Spencer pulled you into his lap and put pressure on your shoulder. 

“Will you kiss me?” Spencer didn’t ask why, he quickly leaned down and connected his lips to yours. You tasted of the donut you had at the police station before you came here. Though he wasn’t surprised you tasted sweet. He stayed there, his forehead and his nose pressed against yours, hands against your wound. 

“What if I ask you, huh? If I asked you to stay, would you?”

You laughed weakly and smiled. “You’ve never asked me that.”

“I’m asking you now. You have to stay y/n, you have to. You can’t leave me now. You have to stay. Please stay.”

But you didn’t respond, you were already unconscious. Spencer finally lifted his head and screamed for a medic. He hadn’t even realized that the ambulance already arrived and the stretcher was being placed next to you on the floor.

“You have to get up, kid.” Derek spoke, hand on his shoulder. “I’ll take you to the hospital. Let the medics take care of y/n for us.”

When you were finally pulled out of Spencer’s lap, he deflated. He had no fight left in him. He wanted to ride in the ambulance with you, but his mouth wouldn’t move to say the words.  
So he just nodded and let Derek help him up.

Spencer stayed. Every time you explicitly asked him to, he stayed.

You had to stay for him. Spencer didn’t want to be selfish, but you had to. You couldn’t just kiss him and leave. You couldn’t.

:: :: ::

When you woke up, the first thing you felt was Spencer’s hand holding yours. You knew it was Spencer’s of course, given your last interaction.

“You knew I’d stay, right?” Spencer head shot up at your raspy voice and you saw his face. His bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks hurt your heart.

“I was hoping you would.” He smiled through his tears. “So much for friends, huh?”

You laughed out loud, ignoring the pain in your shoulder. “I like coffee flavored kisses way more than Chinese and soup anyways.”

The hospital room was quiet for a few moments except for your heart monitor steadily beeping, reminding you that that wouldn’t be your first and last kiss to share with Spencer. “Why did you ask me hypothetically those first three times?” Spencer asked, breaking the silence. “You didn’t ask me to stay, you asked if I would. Why?”

“I wanted to know if you would.” You replied with a (painful) shrug, as if it were that simple. “I wanted to know if I wanted or needed you to stay, that you would.”

“What if I had said no?”

“Then I would have kept asking until you said yes.” You smiled teasingly. “Would you have ever said no, though?”

“No, I don’t think I’m capable of saying no to you.” 

“Even the first time?” You asked. “After that case in Utah.” You mostly mentioned that detail for yourself, knowing that Spencer definitely remembered more about that case than you did.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure it started that first time you asked me.” Spence recalled. 

“Really? That was my first case!” You grinned at the memory. You knew your feelings towards Spencer were shared, especially now, but you didn’t think they were shared that far back. You had only met him two days prior to that incident late at night in the bullpen.

“I know.” Spencer smiled, a light blush dusting his cheeks. “I’ll always stay y/n, you don’t have to ask anymore.”

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is always appreciated :) this is a personal favorite of mine


End file.
